The Full Story
by Celestial Storyteller
Summary: A very long story thought up while jokingly (and might I add tiredly) trying to work Mario Kart into the Mario storyline's "canon" with my brother. Never really intended to publish it, as it started as a joke. Never really intended to finish it either. Or post anything to this site. But I'm getting carried away, which is kind of what this story's about. Will be updated soon enough.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue One: The Plumbers' Past

The man trudged through the streets of the city, shivering as the rain poured. His umbrella shuddered as it was nearly caught by a slight gust of wind. He was alone again. It had been a slow day, not a single call for plumber's work. As the wind picked up gradually, it blew the man's favorite red cap emblazoned with an M off of his head and onto the sidewalk in front of him. He stooped to pick it up, snatching it up as quickly as possible before its delicate fabric was ruined by rainwater - his most prized possession.

Somewhere off in the distance, a siren sounded, then two, then three. The man was caring - frequently in ways that didn't involve him in the least, sometimes to his own detriment. He briefly held the victims of whatever unfortunate incident had occurred in his mind, sent out some hope to them (as futile as he knew this was) and snatched up his cap, placing it on his head, being sure to hold onto it well.

Holding his umbrella tightly, he quickened his pace. He knew his mother would be waiting for him, likely looking out the window with concern as the small house glowed invitingly. The man smiled as he remembered his mother. She was a small but rotund woman, with a light smile and a certain knack for cooking with mushrooms. She could've been a doctor, a lawyer, rich and famous and learned, but she had to drop out of school to care for her parents after their unfortunate accident. She'd only planned to stay a year or so, but her mother fell unexpectedly ill. She found her mother lying peacefully with a smile on her face in her bed, a short note saying how proud she had been of her only daughter, expressing her love. An empty bottle of sleeping pills on the nightstand, a half-empty glass of water. His mother had been speechless with rage and loss - her mother had been the most capable member of their family and she was left to be the sole caretaker of her crippled father.

The next part of her story Mario never heard, because she he had broken down into tears and he and his sibling quietly left the room after a quick hug. Thinking of his brother, he hoped he'd kept the van safe - Luigi was notoriously incompetent but Mario had, in a lapse of judgement, allowed his brother to drive the van around a while longer, drumming up some advertisement and then heading home in a few hours. Work at the age of 16 was tough. Self-employment was tougher.

Rounding the corner into their neighborhood, he waved to Toad across the street. Toad was a nice kid; he always meant well, but he wasn't exactly the brightest. Toad saw Mario and yelled, but Mario couldn't tell what he was saying. Crossing the street, he walked up to the kid, who appeared to be panicking.

"It- Mario, they- but I tried- your house-" Toad could barely be understood through the sound of the pouring rain and his speech was muffled enough by his blubbering.

"Calm down, Toad, what's the matter?" Mario's concern was mounting.

"Your house- horrible, horrible accident- s-she was cooking and- the whole place caught on fire, it was awful- and then the house next door caught on fire and- she just- she- no one called the hospital until it was too late, and- and- the fire department couldn't-" Mario bolted down the street. The next fifteen minutes were a blur.

Running.

Crying, rain pouring.

Frantic.

Panicked.

Lights. Lots of them. Cars and vans, lots of them. Three stretchers. Three of them. No house. None of it.

No sirens. No urgency. None of it.

No survivors. None of them.

Everything gone. All of it.

Luigi driving up. Luigi getting out. Luigi gasping. Luigi crying.

Overwhelmed. Dizzy. Confused. Alone.

Everything black. All of it.

Passing out.


	2. Chapter 2

Three years after The Plumbers' Past

Prologue Two: The Princess's Past

The lady daintily made her way through the graveyard, flanked by two burly bodyguards who were decidedly not dainty. The walk always gave her time to reflect, but not by herself. Never by herself. She thought, and sometimes her thoughts carried her into a waking dream. Sometimes they carried her into a waking nightmare. She never really had a choice in the matter. Her thoughts would do what they wanted, and she was alright with that. The dreams were never that bad.

It was a bright day. If she were selfish, that thought would be followed by the thought that it shouldn't be, given the circumstances. But today she couldn't be selfish. She couldn't tell whether that was because she couldn't afford to be selfish or whether that was just the way she was - she had trouble reading her own thoughts. She settled on the more satisfying conclusion that that was just the way she was. Comforting.

The birds chirped brightly in the tall trees of the Royal Family Graveyard. Peach smiled. She knew her parents would be happy in a place like this, even when they couldn't perceive it as she could. As the living could. They'd loved nature. Coming to the gravestones, she lost her positivity as she remembered that both of her parents were in the sacred, lush, ground now. Not just her mother. The shocking death of her father, the burdens of ruling, the decision to keep the title of Princess for reasons her steward Toadsworth could never understand. All of it came rushing back as she sat down on the bench by her parents' graves.

She was only eighteen. It made no sense. No sense. That her parents should die before they were old. That she should be the ruler.

No sense.

Escaping momentarily from her thoughts, she realized that she'd buried her face in her white silk gloves. Almost stained them with her tears. Not very ladylike. Not very strong. She had to be a proper lady now; she knew that. Her mother was a true lady. Her father had been the picture of chivalry. She had to be both those things now. To calm the country. Quell the thoughts of civil unrest. She had to pretend to be fit to rule. Had to be stiff, sit upright. Had to be polite but firm. Had to be decisive. Had to speak commandingly. Had to command, too. Had to lead. Had to stop being such a child. Had to.

Fitting that tomorrow was her birthday.

The Koopa bodyguard sat down next to her, barely fitting his large shell into the seat. Whispered some words of encouragement to her. Told her that her parents would be proud. Got up, walked off. Nothing much else to say.

For the Koopa bodyguard knew his own plans, knew that the Princess's supposed strength was a flimsy paper facade over a frayed banner of weakness and uncertainty. He knew her faults. Her every move. His species knew vicariously through him. And they would be victorious in the coming civil war. They would rule, Toads and Humans and Gods and Stars be damned. Koopas be damned, HE would rule.

She never really had a choice in the matter.


End file.
